Have You Ever Noticed the Many Ways in Which I am Awful?

I really hate the way I sound in my last two posts. I can't help but imagine them being read in a whiny voice: "Waahhh I had to clean up after peeeepppuuulll. Waahh moving doesn't fix everything in your lifffeeee." This is why I've been having trouble writing lately. The things I write are sort of making me hate myself.

I've unfortunately reached that plateau on the journey to improved self awareness where I am really really good at identifying the things about me that are probably annoying to others. For example, if I really really like an anecdote, I will tell it over and over and over and like sneak it into conversation whenever possible. It's a lot like Brad Stand and the chicken salad/Shania Twain thing.

Or, semi-relatedly-like when I want to show someone something funny/interesting on the Internet, I assume this supremely obnoxious body posture and facial expression while they watch it. It can only be described as expectantly smug.

Or like lately, I keep on jumping all over people when I perceive their comments to be even vaguely misogynistic. I am giving feminists everywhere a bad name. And the worst part is, my extremely kind and loyal friends will go out of their way to be like, "No, that entirely insane thing you just yelled at that man was totally called for. You shouldn't feel bad about it at all." My god. They are saints.

And I'm sure you've all noticed how I just generally talk a lot. Like I monopolize conversations. I have a response and often an accompanying anecdote for every damn thing somebody says.

Some others:

• I talk about my cats a lot.
• I am really really bad at curbside parking.
• I walk really really fast and purposefully around the office. It could probably be described as "storming."
• I am hypocritical and contradict myself a lot in day-to-day conversation.
• I have like a trillion "hobbies." My interest in each is so diffuse and ill-focused that I will probably never be good at anything or accomplish anything. 
• My knowledge about a lot of things that I claim to know about and care about is embarrassingly facile. Basically like this:

• I complain about going to the grocery store.

So, how is that, knowing what I know about myself, I am able to maintain any level of distaste for a large portion of the general populace?

I realize that I am awful. Just like everyone else. Brb, ascending to the highest level of Maslow's hierarchy of needs.